


Squabbling

by Arya3610



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Cute, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, Happy Ending, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 16:13:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11672607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arya3610/pseuds/Arya3610
Summary: Castiel and Dean argue a lot, but they both know how much the other loves them. They joke about breaking up constantly, neither taking it seriously. One day, Dean asks for a divorce instead.





	Squabbling

“That’s it, we have to break up.”

 

Castiel rolled his eyes at the sink and laughed. “Dean, we are not breaking up just because you don’t like that I keep the ketchup in the fridge.” He continued to wash the lettuce, unbothered by Dean’s proclamation.

 

“But Cas!” Dean argued, shaking the bottle. “Cold ketchup is gross! It should stay on the counter, or in a cabinet, or… in a pantry… or something! Just not the fridge!” He closed the refrigerator door, ketchup still in hand.

 

Castiel turned around, leaned against the counter, and raised an eyebrow at Dean. “Can you read that bottle for me?”

 

Dean’s brow furrowed. “What?”

 

Castiel smiled and gestured with a still dripping hand. “Read that bottle for me.”

 

“Oooo-kay?” Dean looked at Cas like he had lost his mind before lowering his eyes and slowly scanning the ingredient label. “Are you worried about calories or something? Because you really don’t have to be, babe, you’re in better shape than I am.”

 

Castiel chuckled and shook his head, snagging a hand towel off of the oven door and drying his hands. “No, Dean, I’m not worried about calories. Thank you for your reassurance, though.”

 

“Why am I reading this, then?” Dean looked up again.

 

“Tell me,” Castiel said, slinging the towel over his shoulder and crossing his arms. “Are there little instructions above the ingredients list?”

 

“Babe, I know how to put ketchup on a burger, I really don’t need- “

 

“Does it say,” Castiel interrupted, a repressed smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. “’Shelf after opening’?”

 

Dean lowered the bottle and gave him an unimpressed look. “No.”

 

Castiel snickered and stepped forward. He put his hands on Dean’s shoulders and gave him a quick kiss. “The ketchup stays in the fridge.”

 

Dean wrapped his free arm around Cas’ waist and kissed him on the cheek. “Fine,” He sighed, acting put-upon. “But I’m going complain about it.” He mumbled.

 

Castiel smiled and gave him a quick squeeze before heading back to the lettuce. “That’s fine, Dean. I think I can handle that.”

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

 

“I’m breaking up with you.”

 

Dean laughed and took another bite of his s’more. “Babe, it’s just a marshmallow!”

 

Castiel shook his head with mock seriousness. “Dean, you cannot honestly tell me you enjoy the flavor of charcoal.”

 

Dean shrugged, eyes sparkling. “Your way takes too long, angel.”

 

Castiel huffed, keeping an eye on his marshmallow as it slowly turned golden brown over the campfire. “Your way is barbaric.”

 

“Aw, come on,” Dean speared another marshmallow and stuck it over the fire.

 

“No, Dean, I think he’s right.” Sam broke in, smiling at the couple. “Your way is pretty…”

 

They both watched as Dean’s marshmallow caught fire and turned black. He raised it to his mouth and blew it out, grinning at the crackly-looking result.

 

“Charcoal-y.” Sam finished, wrinkling his nose at his brother.

 

Dean shrugged, taking the burnt marshmallow off the stick and making another s’more. “I like it this way.” He grinned at Cas, mouth smeared with chocolate.

 

Castiel sighed and pulled his perfectly golden treat out of the fire. “I suppose it’s fine,” He said, smiling softly at Dean, “As long as you never offer to make me one.”

 

Dean gasped, holding a hand over his heart in mock-offense. “I would never!” He grinned, handing Cas the graham crackers. “I know you’re a strong, independent man who can make his own s’mores.”

 

Castiel chuckled at him, taking a bite of his creation. “And don’t you forget it.”

 

“Now, hot dogs, on the other hand- “

 

“No, Dean.” Castiel laughed, “If your hot dogs turn out anything like your marshmallows, I’m going to need you to let me do those for myself, too.”

 

Dean winked at him, wrapping an arm around Cas’ waist and pulling him close. “I think I can handle that, babe.”

 

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

 

“Break-up on aisle four!”

 

Castiel laughed at Dean. “We do not need five jars of honey!”

 

Dean shrugged, grinning at him. “We don’t need a lot of things, Cas. Doesn’t mean we don’t get them anyway.” He shook off Castiel’s restraining hand and grabbed three more jars to add to the two already in their shopping cart.

 

Castiel shook his head. “Dean, we really don’t need this much.” He tried to reach in and take out a couple, but Dean grabbed his hands and pulled them. His hands held Cas’ in a solid grip above Dean’s shoulders, effectively forcing Cas to hug him.

 

“I want to get them. For you.” Dean said softly, smiling at his boyfriend. “You love it, and I love spoiling you.”

 

Castiel felt himself blush slightly, both at the closeness and at the affection in Dean’s tone. “Alright,” He sighed, leaning his forehead against Dean’s. “If you really want to.”

 

Dean gave Castiel a quick kiss. “Of course I do, angel. As long as you’re okay with it?”

 

Castiel smiled and kissed him back. “Yes, Dean. I think I can handle it.”

 

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

 

“I want a divorce.”

 

Castiel laughed, flipping the pancake in front of him. “First of all, Dean, it’s just orange juice. We can get it without pulp next time, I know you like it better that way. Secondly,” he continued, pulling the pan off the heat and turning around, “you’d have to marry me before- “

 

“Okay,” Dean said. He slowly kneeled in front of Cas, pajamas still on and hair still mussed up from the pillows. He was holding a black box with a ring.

 

“Oh,” Castiel breathed. “Oh, Dean?”

 

“Castiel James Novak,” Dean’s smile was shaky and his hand holding the box was wobbling, but his voice was as bright and strong as ever. “You insist that ketchup goes in the fridge, that socks should not be worn to bed, and that cinnamon toothpaste is the Devil’s work. None of that is true,” He laughed shakily, “but that’s okay. We don’t agree on everything. We don’t have to agree on everything. I love arguing with you, the way you laugh when you know you’ve won and the way you pout when you don’t.” He smiled up at Cas. “Sam once told me that we squabble more than an old married couple,” He laughed shakily. “Would you like to test that theory with me?”

 

“Dean,” Castiel fell to his knees, grabbing Dean’s head and kissing his eyes, his forehead, his cheeks, anywhere he could. “Yes,” He breathed, “Yes,” he laughed, eyes blurring through his happy tears. He was blinded by the smile Dean gave him.

 

“Yeah?” Dean brought his hand up to Castiel’s face, carefully wiping away his tears.

 

“Yes, of course,” Castiel nodded, hand reaching up to cradle the one on his face. “Of course,” he repeated, laughing again. “I love you so much, Dean.”

 

Dean’s grin widened. “I love you, too, angel.” He kissed Cas’ forehead.

  
They sat there for a while, both kneeling on the kitchen floor of their shared apartment. Just holding each other and being happy.

 

“Do you want to see the ring?” Dean finally asked. “It’s my mother’s. I’ve been holding on to it since she passed. I got it resized, thought you might like to have it.”

 

Castiel nodded. He watched as Dean opened the box and slid the ring onto his finger. “It’s beautiful.” He whispered.

 

Dean blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry that it’s a woman’s ring, it might be a little feminine.”

 

Castiel smiled and pulled Dean in for a soft kiss. “I think I can handle it.”


End file.
